One of the Good Guys
by ihadtoputitsomewhere
Summary: Set after Stiles accidentally killed Donovan. What if he didn't call 911? What if he called someone else instead?


It happened so fast.

That's what they tell you to say. What they tell you to repeat.

It happened so fast. Too fast.

One second we were climbing and I was trying to shake him off but he wouldn't let go a-and there was this pin in the scaffolding and I didn't know what else to do so I pulled it out—

It happened so fast.

And then he was dead; Donovan was fucking dead because of me. I took someone's life. Fuck, _I_ _did that._ And now I'm standing here looking at him looking at me with eyes that don't see anymore.

I did that. Me.

And then my phone buzzed, still inside his pocket. I took it out, not knowing what else to do. I couldn't just leave it there with him because they'd find it and then they'd find out…they always find out because that's what they do…what my dad does and he's really, really good at it

It was Malia. I didn't answer.

I walked over to the landline on the circulation desk and dialed 9-1—no. No, no no I can't do that. Call the cops on myself? No, _NO._

But you're supposed to call them. When you're in trouble, w-when you need help you call them, that's what mom always said, you call them.

I can't call them. I can't call them. Then who do I call? I can't do this, I'm not a killer, I'm not a predator, who the fuck do I—

Oh. _Oh._ Okay but what are the chances of him picking up, I mean really. This man was able to fall off the face of the earth within a heartbeat and I really expected him to pick up _my_ call?

But what else am I supposed to do?

"Fuck, okay…" I mumbled to myself as I spotlight searched my phone for Derek's number.

I'd forgotten I had put it under Sourwolf. Seems kind of morbidly funny right now, and if I wasn't lowkey choking on my own bile I probably would've laughed at myself.

It rang for what seemed like forever but then he picked up and it was like I didn't know how to say words and all that came out was crying and _what the fuck_ I can't be crying right now…there's a dead guy, a dead guy I fucking made dead literally 10 feet behind me and I'm crying into the phone while Derek-I'm-done-with-your-shit-Hale fucking listens on the other end.

"Stiles? What the hell are you saying, I can't—Stiles! Hey, stop talking for a second and just breathe."

I didn't even realize I'd been crying _and_ talking into the phone, and to add to that, nothing I said had made any sense. I took a deep breath and tried to compose myself.

"I killed him." I sobbed out, my voice dry and cracked and gross. "I, he was, we were, he tried to—and then the poles fell and he's—"

"Hey, hey, where are you right now? Are you hurt?"

"I don't—I don't know I can't—feel anything I can't, I'm, I'm, I'm at the, uh, the library. At school. The one at school."

"Okay, hey, I'm coming to you. Don't move. Don't touch anything. Does Scott—"

"No! No he doesn't know, I called you first. I was gonna call the police but I—"

"Bad idea. Don't do that."

I huffed out a laugh through the thick tears. "Yeah, I know."

"I can be there in 20 minutes, maybe 10 if I break some laws along the way."

My face crumbled and I looked back at Donovan, blood still pooling around him. "Nothing you do is ever gonna be as bad as—"

"Stop that. Stop that right now. Wallowing will get you nowhere. Just sit tight until I get there. Don't touch anything, it'll just spread your DNA and make it harder to clean up."

 _How the fuck do you know that?_

"Okay." I choked out. "I, um…" I took a shaky breath. "Just—just, thanks."

"I'm gonna help you fix this. I'm 15 minutes out. I'll see you soon."

"Yeah." I whispered.

He hung up. He hung up and I was alone again. Alone with a dead body. A dead body that was dead because of me. Oh god.

I tried to ward off the panic for as long as I could but it was getting harder to breathe and I swear the room was getting smaller and I was all alone and now it's three.

Three people dead because of me and fuck why didn't they just kill me when they had the chance? Why didn't they just kill me now?

I should be dead. Not Allison. Not Aiden. Not—

I turned around and looked at him. There was so much blood. He stared back at me and even though I knew he couldn't see me anymore I couldn't make myself meet his gaze.

Panic swelled inside my chest, this wave bigger than the rest. I wasn't ready for it. It crashed on my lungs and made them so tight I couldn't breathe and I was sure I was drowning. I stumbled away from the body, back towards the door but I couldn't get it open so I pounded on it with both fists, crying and screaming and choking and drowning.

And then someone pulled me out of the water.

I felt Derek's arms around me before I even realized he had opened the door and let himself in. I felt them hold tight around and I let the panic take over because I knew he would be able to drain the water in my lungs.

"Hey, shh it's okay. It's okay." Derek reassured me.

But I wasn't listening because I was trying to bury my face further into his neck because it was really warm there okay?

And my hands were tangled in the fabric of his tee shirt and his hands were drawing shapes on my back and he was rocking me side to side which made me feel sort of like a baby but who the fuck cares because the water was going down and every breath was less painful and _fuck_ it felt good to breath again.

"Let's get you outside okay? Fresh air will help."

I nodded but didn't loosen my grip on him and I was grateful he didn't loosen his either.

We walked outside like magnets, never losing contact. The cool nighttime air danced on my skin, leaving goosebumps. I shook, even in Derek's tight embrace, unable to stop.

"Are you alright? Can you breathe okay?"

I nodded, but we both knew I was lying.

"When you're ready to talk, I need you to tell me what happened in there."

I winced before I was able to stop myself. "Can we just…stay here? Like this…just for a sec?"

Derek said nothing, only holding me impossibly tighter and keeping the worst of the tremors at bay. He ran his fingers lazily up and down my back and I kept my face buried in his chest, both without shame.

"I killed him, Derek."

"It's not your fault."

"He's dead because of me." I looked up at him. "How is that not my fault?" My voice betrayed me and cracked at the end.

"It was self defense. He would have killed you."

"That's starting to sound like not such a bad thing."

Suddenly Derek put his hands on my shoulders and stooped his head down to meet my gaze.

"It would be a bad thing. Stiles, it would be a very, very, really bad thing. I know what you're thinking right now. I know what the voices inside of your head are telling you but they're _wrong,_ Stiles. They are so wrong. Totally and completely. Scott doesn't just keep you around because you can crack the occasional joke, he keeps you because he loves you like a brother and without you he'd only be half a person. Without you this pack, this family, whatever the hell we are, it would crumble to the ground. We aren't the ones keeping you alive, you are the one keeping us alive. You save us, you put yourself in danger because you care about your friends and dammit Stiles, they would do the same for you in a heartbeat."

With his thumb, he wiped away the tears I wasn't able to hide.

"This world needs you to stick around. Hell, what I wouldn't give to have a friend like you, who would literally take a wolfsbane laced bullet for me, even when they knew I could heal. You're one of the good guys, Stiles. Don't let them," Derek point to my head. "tell you any different than I'm telling you now."

I looked at him, questioning, skeptical, doubtful, perpetually suspicious. Derek grabbed my hand and put against the side of his neck. He moved my fingers around until he knew I had found his pulse.

"Feel my heartbeat. It's steady…I'm not lying to you."

I kept my hand there. It was really warm okay?

Derek leaned closer and lowered his voice. "You…are one of the good guys."

No blip. No skips. It was steady.

I felt as though there was a little patch of sunlight warming my entire body in this moment, but then I realized it was probably just because Derek still had me wrapped in his arms and my hand was still pressed against his neck. I took advantage of this and pulled him closer, slowly, so he had time to pull away if he wanted to.

 _Please don't want to._

He didn't.

Our foreheads met first. I looked down but I could feel his eyes on me. I looked up tentatively, perpetually suspicious, but Derek just smiled and leaned in. Our lips met and the little patch of sunshine spread all over and it was like the sky opened up completely, and I was truly warm for the first time since…a really long time.

And then it was over.

There was a bang that came from inside the library. Then a crash, and then it sounded like someone had shattered the windows.

We ran to the doors, I swiped my student card, and we pushed them open simultaneously. I braced myself for the blood and the carnage and all of the _death_ and when we opened the doors I just…

Nothing. There was nothing.

Donovan, and all of his blood, was gone.

 _What the hell?_


End file.
